


Wolf Moon, Shadow Queen

by xlilim



Series: Omixochitl [2]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Background Relationships, Blood Magic, Blood and Violence, Children, Death Rituals, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fantasy, Fate & Destiny, Gods, Implied Relationships, Large Cast, Love Triangles, Magic, Magic Abilities, One-Sided Attraction, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Female Character, POV Original Character, POV Third Person, Post-Turn Back the Pendulum Arc, Pre-Canon, Pregnancy, Psychic Abilities, References to Aztec Religion & Lore, Rituals, Romance, Shapeshifting, Soul Bond, Torture, Tragedy, Unrequited Love, Violence, Witches, Wolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-07-19 11:46:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19973530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xlilim/pseuds/xlilim
Summary: Hisame Kazuye awakens in the care of an exiled nahualli and a wolf child in a world that promises to be just as cruel as Soul Society with a revelation that changes the course of her life. (Crossposted on FF and WP.)





	1. Mictlantecuhtli's Daughter

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> Part II of Omixochitl is underway and what a journey it will be!

_On the eve of_ Xiuhmolpilli[1] _, once all light in the island had been extinguished and the Mzali Queen, Sol Nohvan, reached the summit of the mountain in the heart of their kingdom, the deafening roars of Hollows outside their barrier's perimeter enveloped the fearful nahualli in a pale mist._

_Sol took the platter of floral and fruit offerings that her_ tzitzimitl[2] _, Izar Nohvan, presented to her from her knees and took it within the open temple to spread them among the other fragrant items. Dewy marigolds framed the exterior altar, white candles encircled the ritual array underneath the wide metal container. The ashes of a rowan tree mixed in a bowl of poisoned berries, dried leaves, and Nohvan blood—willingly sacrificed—formatted the runes and glyphs bound within the circle._

_Sol produced the bone fragments of her ancestors from within a velvet pouch inside the pocket of her long white coat and brought them to her lips to enchant them, infusing them with her spiritual energy as she called forth her root power of sight._ Blessed are the bones of my family. Blessed are the gods in paradise. Blessed are the nahualli born of this island. Blessed is the year of peace. _She poured the bones into the central pot and they clattered into the shape of a pentagram. She drew a circle in the air above it and it seared into the metal as power enveloped around her, calling forth the evening wind as the screeching of Hollows grew louder. Every second that passed, weakened the barrier that protected her people from them._

_Xiuhmolpilli was celebrated long ago as a means to prevent the monsters descended from above devouring their people back when their devils were mythical and frightening because they were out of sight—because their rituals protected their people and pleased their gods. The New Fire Ceremony evolved with her brethren after the Mzali and Sayegh Witchlines parted bitterly. Sol's great-grandparents weaved a ritual array into the earth of their island to protect them of Mictlantecuhtli's Curse and of the supernatural hunters that craved their power. Five days of preparations were dedicated to the rite, during which she meditated in silence and amassed as much spiritual energy from her surrounding, taking it into her body until glowing white runes surfaced on her ochre-toned skin, vivid like morning light shining on the brownish red clay bowls that lined her windowsill. She utilized the stored power to fuel the protective barrier for the next 52 years._

_Sol plucked the petals off several flowers and let them rain onto the bones. She poured ashes into them. She started to sing to the clattering bone fragments as she lifted her arms skyward, the runes that swirled under her thin robe gave off the same ethereal glow of the moon. The gentle winds carried her song to her tzitzimimeh outside the temple and sparks began to fly from within the container._

_She unfastened the sash holding her robe together and shrugged off the flimsy piece of fabric when a giant flame burst from within the bones, startling her into silence._

_"Your majesty." Izar appeared at the entrance of the temple, concern marked her delicate features. "Is everything okay?"_

_The fire burned tall and captivated by the deep red and orange hues bleeding into the yellows, the heat radiating from it blurring the surrounding stone walls like a mirage. Sol transcribed the images embedded in bone and embers to the quiet._

_" **The gods will fight for**_ **her.** " A gale whipped around her still body, sparks of the flame spinning within its force and crackling with the spiritual energy spilling from her as a caged owl with glowing eyes surfaced in her mind's eye, the creature sealed behind complex science and spellwork—a shinigami and nahualli collaborated prison full of deep, whispering shadows and decorated in blood-soaked walls. " ** _Imbued with great power, the gods will pledge her bountiful blessings._** _" A girl appeared to her. Brown skinned and wild-haired with fierce eyes that shone like jadeite gemstones. The world wrapped around her so lovingly that it distorted in the small child's surroundings. " **She was born to rule alongside the Old God—the light to the shadow, sun to the moon.** " Behind the girl a large menacing figure appeared—a beloved and feared being that oozed darkness—whose overflowing aura melted all around the child. " **She will be damned and she will be blessed.** " She witnessed a thousand events unfold at once as her temples ached, as though ready to explode. That same child she saw—she watched her grow in silence, cry into the quietude of the thirteenth hour, and amass abilities the likes their kind had not witnessed in many years. Alone. Miserable. Abhorred. Feared. And why wouldn't she be any of those things. " **Her birth is the coming of the end.** " Sol paused as her knees trembled, weak with the weight of the prophecy spoken through her body. " **The end will come of her.** "_

_Sol fell into Izar's arms as the final word left her and her older sister steadied her. Izar clothed her and wrapped her quivering body tightly in her warm shawl as she turned, grasping her sister. Fear bloomed inside her chest. Images of a Sayegh witch seated in a room clouded with darkness filled her mind. The witch's belly was swollen with a child growing powerful inside her womb. Red-rimmed eyes and parched, cracked lips. Her body so thin, her brown skin stretched taut over her bones. A platter sat upside down in one corner with its contents strewn as if by a violent force—the food had long gone cold. The woman's misery and terror resonated deep within Sol as though she were experiencing the feelings herself. The desire to claw the child from her belly, to scrape her out of her womb, and the disgust that she had become its chosen vessel—that this demon child had been called a miracle. Fear swallowed her whole and nuzzled deep within its stomach, the reality of birthing this powerful witch paralyzed her. Sol perceived it vividly as her stomach knotted and a forceful shudder strummed through her like an out of tune instrument._

_The giant flame went out in a pillar of black smoke and the charred edges of her ancestors' bone fragments rattled restlessly; their songs unfinished. Their voices became hoarse whispers in her ears, and curiously, she peered into the amalgamation of the future stitched together by the weavers of their fate._

_"What did you see, your majesty?" asked Izar, joined alas by the rest of the tzitzimimeh, her seers and advisors._

_"The last of Mictlantecuhtli's children," said Sol._

_Collective gasps echoed within the temple walls, rising to escape through the open roof._

_"She will bring ruin to our people," continued Sol. "A harbinger of death."_

_"Did you see anything else?" asked Izar, alarmed. "Do you know her name?"_

Yes. _She had caught more than a name._

_"Xochiquetzal," replied Sol, side-stepping away to face her seers. "_ Princess _Xochiquetzal. A Sayegh witch, the last branch of their cursed line. The Queen of Witches, Tezcatlipoca's wife. **The end will come of her.** " Sol faced her silent tzitzimimeh. All of them formed a semi-circle around her, listening intently. "If she deigns to plague our world, we owe it to our ancestors to eliminate her before she destroys us all."_

_"The Sayegh Queen will never allow us into Soul Society with such intentions," replied Izar._

_"Perhaps,_ cihuapillahtocatzintli _, they are already aware of this plight," one of the seers stated with certainty. "The Soul Society nahualli have the Prophetic Sisters—the three blessed with the Smoking Mirror's Sight."_

_The others agreed with silent nods, but her bones rattled. Unsettled by the cold inching in their marrow._

_"You may be right," replied Sol, "but we must communicate our knowledge to them regardless. The fate of our people rests on the decision made. If the Prophetic Sister are aware, they will welcome our insight. Though together we may not be, we share a mutual respect. This is the least we can do. Think of the many times they have relayed such information to us in the past. We cannot fail them. The child must die."_

_Izar's expression showed her disdain. She did not try to hide it among her sisters, but that did not stop the queen from regarding her with an intense stare._

_"You must go to the Wolf's Forest," dictated Sol. The queen clasped one of the jade charm necklaces from around her neck and wrapping it around her sister's neck protectively, the magic imbued in it warmed Izar. "Settle there. Find connections in the nearby villages. Be patient. And four moons after we arrange a meeting, if our warnings fail, you will deliver the child back to Mictlantecuhtli."_

_Izar inclined her head. She did not believe herself capable of such a thing. Perhaps, her sister was aware when she tasked her with this mission, or maybe Sol knew that she would follow through out of duty._

_Respectfully, she accepted the order believing that she would get it done. "I shall not fail you, my queen."_

* * *

The sprawling orange forest went on endlessly. Leaves of vibrant red hues decorated the ground as the bright-colored trees canopied over her head, obscuring the pale sky. Hisame Kazuye stumbled. Rose when she fell, her knees aching, the pain shooting through her like another sharp knife piercing her skin. The colors bled and blurred into one another. A sob caught perpetually in her throat; tear streaks dried on her face.

Her breath emerged from between her lips in white mists. The wound had festered, oozed black blood and foul-smelling pus. A parting gift from the Akram Queen's dagger. She ground her teeth, the sound ricocheting down her ribcage. She held a hand pressed hard to the hole in the side of her abdomen, the space between her fingers was sticky with blood.

Death wrapped around her, merging into her flesh. Its sharpened claws burrowed deep into the muscle, picking through the bone. She sensed nothing. The spiritual energy she created within her body had gone, evaporated as though its flames had been smothered and only half-life embers cooled with the temperature of her body. She couldn't spark a fire with her fingertips or feel the vibrations of the environment flourishing around her or look further into the path ahead for even a hint of civilization.

Sōsuke bound her powers. He betrayed her. Tore a hole through her that ached in every inch of her body. She dropped her guard, despite knowing how he was. That this would inevitably happen. That she'd be alone. Perpetually.

... _but he asked me to stay._

Kazuye dropped to the ground, cushioned by thousands of crunchy auburn leaves. She pushed herself up on trembling limbs, but fell flat on the ground once more. Unable to stand, she clawed forward, gasping. Inhaling the crisp morning air and it ballooned in her lungs like a noxious gas.

Her vision slowly blackened as she dug her nails into the earth, never wanting to stop, but her consciousness faded.

Kazuye drifted back from the cold, drawn to the heaving breaths at her side. Something nuzzled her arm and whimpered. The whine of an animal. A huff. Deep and guttural. She peeled her eyes open, the leaves and earth blurred into an orangey brown. Brittle leaves crunched under the soft padding of an auburn wolf's paws; its golden gaze pierced through her.

She reached out to touch the wolf as it pressed its face to her arm, sniffing the blood soaked into the ground, and its fur was thick and soft. Had it come to take her? Guide her to death. Where would she go? Back to Soul Society. To a land of shadows. Back into the cycle of rebirth? She wondered if she'd return as someone less miserable next time.

_No._ She plunged her fingers into the cold earth underneath her body, crushing the leaves into the mushy ground. A part had always considered this route. Leave herself to die. Suffering be damned. She was done. But her grandmother's words echoed in her mind.

_"Suffer every injustice. Endure it…and if that brings you enemies, you welcome them. If evil knocks at your door, you open your heart to it. You are the last Sayegh Shaman, its last nahualli princess. Never dull your edge out of fear. Be brave. Be free._ **Do it for me.** _"_

The Akram Queen, Tono Sumika, hunted her through the forest, her spiritual pressure so heavy and full of hate that it twisted in her guts as though a part of the dead woman resided somewhere deep inside her, growing steadily like a disease. Kill or be killed. Kazuye pushed past her limit to protect what little dignity she had remaining. The queen had been a mere stepping stone to her escape. To channeling a power that had once felt so far from her reach. To use that which had been forbidden by her people. Blood magic.

Without it, she would've continued to theorize. She knew now. The Sayegh's true power coursed through their veins.

Kazuye screamed as she pushed her upper body from the ground. It felt like her skin was burning as if someone was tearing it from her body section by section. Her eyes grew hazy. Her lungs ached. Her voice echoed back at her, the shrill sound threatening to burst her eardrums.

She refused to die. She would live a long life and find peace…somewhere. It didn't matter where, but she would not die, not here—not by Sumika's hand.

But the sound disappeared from her dried throat and her throbbing body weighed her down by the severity of her injuries collapsed. The wolf pressed its muzzle against her cheek and whimpered.

A whistle echoed through the misty forest and an unfamiliar voice shattered the eerie silence of death.

* * *

**Mictlantecuhtli's Daughter.** End

* * *

[1] **Xiuhmolpilli** , the New Fire Ceremony, hosted every 52 years (which was a whole Aztec calendar) and it was used as a way to guard against the end of the world.

[2] **Tzitzimitl** (plural, **tzitzimimeh** ), in Aztec Mythology, were goddesses associated with stars. The tzitzimimeh were feared during precarious times, such as the Xiuhmolpilli or during the five unlucky days called the **Nemontemi** , which were a period of instability, when they were believe to descend to earth intent on devouring the remaining people. The leader of the **tzitzimimeh** was the goddess, **Itzpapalotl** ("Obsidian Butterfly"), who was the ruler of **Tamoanchan** , a paradise world.


	2. Why did you help me?

Kazuye inhaled so sharply that she choked on the oxygen expanding her lungs and coughed violently. She spat up blood and stomach acid into her shaky hands, her vision of her fingers blurring against the earthen ground. She returned from a vast, cold darkness shrouded with a mist of whispers and tempered ground. Assaulted by the brightness of a strange morning, she held her arms up over her face to cast a shade over her sensitive eyes whose unfocused trajectory around the unfamiliar area forced a new wave of vertigo that weakened her while she scrambled out of bed to the wooden floorboards below. The rich smell of spices—paprika, turmeric, ginger, cumin—radiated off the warm ground and clashed with the powerful herbs emanating from the mason jars atop a dresser—lavender, rosemary, thyme, and basil.

Pain crashed through her like a wave shattering on a shore and paralyzed her temporarily. Her mind went white, her vision threatened to do the same. The small room around her materialized. Brown wallpaper, plants budding atop every surface in red pots, a full-sized bed with a wooden headboard covered with a thick white duvet with tiny pink flowers and overflowing with pillows. There was a small table with a thick white candle in the middle next to the bed, a dresser with four drawers, and a partially opened lacquer chest full of clean linens. Above her the ceiling was decorated in jewels stringed together that caught and ricocheted light off their clear, colorful surfaces glittering like a sky full of stars in the morning.

The door creaked open and an auburn-furred wolf entered in front of a woman. Kazuye hurled her body backward, slamming into the frame of the bed, her muscles screaming in pain.

"Stay back!" she croaked, her dry throat aching.

"Princess Xochiquetzal," the woman intoned, pausing in the middle of the room. Her kind, almond-shaped eyes crinkled at the ends as a smile lifted the corners of her lips. Streaks of gray peeked through her plaited jet-black hair.

This woman was like her. Nahualli.

Her fear exacerbated. Why would the witches on the other side be any different to what she knew? Idealistic thinking would get her killed.

"What do you want from me?" demanded Kazuye, her heart accelerated. She searched the room for anything that could double as a weapon, but she could only think of smashing the mason jars for a piece of glass. "Are you going to kill me?"

The stranger looked crestfallen.

"No," she said, softly. "Never."

Kazuye inched away, aware of the wolf's golden eyes following her every move. She didn't believe her. Everyone she trusted, hurt her. Why would this be any different?

"I mean you no harm," the stranger said, easing into the words as she crouched down.

"Why did you help me?" asked Kazuye.

"You were on the brink of death," the older woman replied simply. "What kind of person would I be if I left you there alone and afraid to die? We were fortunate to have found you when we did, Xochiquetzal. I was afraid that we would not make it in time."

The words eased the tension in her. They ran earnest, a compliment to the woman's compassionate expression.

"It's Hisame," croaked Kazuye. "Hisame Kazuye."

"Is that your name, then?" said the stranger. "I am called Izar." She gestured to the wolf. "That is Maha." Izar smiled. "You needn't worry now; your condition is stable."

Kazuye swallowed thickly as she unconsciously tugged the duvet from the bed to wrap it around herself. "How did you find me?"

"Half a century ago, I guided your birth mother through the forest," replied Izar. "I knew that I would have to do the same for you today. I simply waited. Maha caught your trail and helped me reach you just in time to stop the bleeding. Had we delayed by so much as an hour, you might have miscarried."

Kazuye's brow furrowed and whispered, full of confusion, "Miscarried?"

Izar tilted her head, but comprehension settled in her youthful features. "Had you not noticed?"

Kazuye almost laughed. "I can't be. I'm not—"

She couldn't say the word. Let alone think it. This was a nightmare. This was the thing she wanted least, the one thing that she tried so hard to prevent. It could be anyone's child. It didn't have to be Sōsuke's. They weren't exclusive and she experimented elsewhere, but the more she considered the others, the clearer it became. She had been completely confident in her contraceptive potion—it had never failed her before.

No. No. No. No. It can't be.

"I suppose it is still too early to tell," said Izar, stepping forward to help Kazuye back into the bed before taking a seat beside her. "Excuse me."

Izar uncovered Kazuye and placed her hands over her lower abdomen, pressing lightly as she inhaled deeply. Her hands exuded a cold energy that made her shiver. The woman hummed appreciatively.

"Lovely," she said, smiling. "I believe you are about three weeks along. Congratulations, _tlahtohcacihuapilli._ "

Kazuye stared at the hanging jewels as the sunlight streaming in from the window and the silver foiled stars attached to the ceiling glimmered. The auburn wolf climbed into bed and nestled itself at her side, surprising her. She reached out to pet the top of its head and relaxed, her frazzled nerves calmed as though this beast absorbed it from her fingertips.

"May I ask you a personal question?" asked Izar.

"Yes."

"Is the man you're bound to the father of your child?"

"I'm not bound to anyone," replied Kazuye, refusing to picture Sōsuke's face in her mind.

"There is a foreign spiritual energy merging into your own. Have you not noticed it? Felt it tickle in your organs? Itch on your skin?" said Izar. "It is an old practice, but the Binding Ceremony is still honored today. It changes ones' spiritual energy."

Yuuto had explained it to her in the simplest terms. _"Its purpose is to create a unique bond between partners…you make a vow and perform a ritual to exchange spiritual energy to make them similar."_

"It makes us impervious to one another," said Kazuye softly. She closed her eyes, expelling a sigh. "So, it worked. This is what he wanted the entire time. He wanted to get me out of the way. How stupid of me." Tears stung her eyes as her chest tightened. "The bastard tricked me."

Izar inclined her head slightly. "You needn't be strong, princess." Her soft voice soothed her. "Nobody here is expecting you to be strong."

The tears dripped from the side of her face as she sobbed, turning as physical pain strummed through her as if she were peeling a human-sized scab. Blood oozed into the clean dressing, staining it red. She unconsciously pressed into the wolf, startling it, and it regarded her with its steady golden gaze—eyes growing glassy as though easing into the sea of her sorrows itself. The gentle wolf shifted to rest its head atop her legs, opening its mouth wide to yawn. It whimpered as it allowed her to embrace it.

"I made sure to be careful," cried Kazuye.

She considered a time when she had snuck into Sōsuke's room and slid underneath the covers that he held up for her. She straddled him naked, her bare flesh pressed against the soft cotton robe standing between them, and kissed him with a fierceness that burned her cheeks. His hands traced the curves of her body admiringly.

She believed then that she had gone mad for considering that she loved him, but his skilled mouth and dexterous fingers chased the thoughts from her mind. He touched her face so gently as he smiled down at her, their bodies tangled under the sheets, and drank in her features in the light of the moon. He whispered her name as he brushed curls from her face.

_"Xochiquetzal."_

Besotted. Blindly, foolishly in love with a man that had no qualms about using her as he saw fit for his plans. It happened then. Or during any of the nights that followed in satisfying her addiction to his touch and the sweetness of his lies.

_"…how are you benefitting?"_

_He took her face in his hands, pulling her close enough that his breath rolled onto her chin in gentle waves, and spoke with strange sincerity that burned her. "Perhaps, I did not want to be without you any longer."_

Izar rubbed careful circles over her back as Kazuye wept.

"I drank the concoction regularly." She hiccupped after each word. "Made it with the freshest ingredients available. I followed every step to the letter. I can't be—" She shook her head as though that would be enough to reject the news. "I just can't."

* * *

**Why did you help me?** End

* * *


End file.
